


Again? Really?

by Savi_Kay



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton is a Little Shit, Deaf Clint Barton, Everyone is the asshole that they are and we love them for it, Family Fluff, I'm not sorry, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is So Done, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, Wade Wilson Knows this is Fanfiction, so many fandom references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26607361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savi_Kay/pseuds/Savi_Kay
Summary: After that one time in Captain America:Winter Soldier when Sam invited Steve and Natasha inside, things just never went back. It's a common occurrence, now, for him to have heroes that need a hand to show up at his doorstep. He takes it all in stride, of course. With only a little bit of complaining and sarcasm. This is a collection of short fics I write when I get the writing bug.
Kudos: 4





	Again? Really?

Honestly, the mission had been fairly simple. Clint was supposed to watch a target, from a distance, and report back what he found. Of course, it hadn't gone that way. It had ended in a fight, and the spy was bruised and bloody, one of his hearing aids was busted, but he was relatively content. He'd gotten done what he needed to. He was alone in DC, though, and needed somewhere to crash. Nat had told him about Sam, and that he'd let them stay. He figured it would be worth a shot. 

It was almost midnight when Clint rang the doorbell. It was raining, too, so he was soaking wet along with dirty and bruised. All in all, he was a pitiful sight. He offered a grin, though, when Sam opened the door looking tired and annoyed. "Hey Wilson. Show an archer those wings I've heard so much about?" About five minutes later, Clint was being shoved down a hallway towards a bathroom, arms full of towels and other toiletries. He was also grinning widely. 

After his shower, Clint toweled his hair off, leaving it fuzzy and spiked up. Nat always made fun of him for it. He made his way back to the living room, where Sam was currently fixing something that smelled amazing in the attached kitchen. He perched himself on the couch, legs thrown up over the back so he was hanging upside-down. "Get your feet off my sofa," Sam called, earning a scoff from Clint who responded by straightening his legs out, so his feet were, technically, not touching the couch. 

"Better?" He asked with a shit-eating grin. Sam rolled his eyes. 

"Not at all, asshole." 

"They're not on your sofa, birdbrain."

Sam huffed again. "Weren't you the original bird?"

"Hawk /eye/" Clint said. "Hawkeye. Meaning I see well. And have amazing accuracy. You're the one with wings." 

Sam just rolled his eyes again and brought a plate of eggs and bacon over. "You're not eating this on my couch," he informed. Clint paid that no mind, and proceeded to eat it, upside-down, on Sam's couch. That was a feat, in all honesty, and Sam couldn't bring himself to complain. Not too much, anyways. "You got grease on my pillow." Clint responded by reaching up and turning off his functional aid, before signing some unkind words at Sam. Sam responded by flipping him off and mouthing 'fuck you'. They bickered lie that for a while longer, before Sam drug Clint to a bedroom. "It's late," he said. "And I've got work tomorrow. Not letting you be the reason I get nothing done." The bed was covered in a soft comforter, with lots of pillows and clean sheets. Clint praised his luck. Much better than anywhere else he would've stayed. He flopped down onto the bed, and was out like a light then and there.


End file.
